


I Thought Love Was Much Softer Than That

by JulietHasAGun



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulietHasAGun/pseuds/JulietHasAGun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preston had always assumed love might have been just a little bit softer than what she gave him. But he wasn't complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Thought Love Was Much Softer Than That

‘ _I was walking along, minding my business, when out of an orange colored sky…_ ’

Preston remembered, in his nightmares, his day dreams, his flashbacks amidst gunfire and screaming; he remembered Concord. He remembered standing on that balcony and shooting down raiders before they could pry their way into the building, his arms cranking his musket as fast as they could, his mind racing trying to keep tabs on what must have been a dozen raiders, all aiming for him.

He remembered thinking it was his last stand.

‘ _FLASH, BAM, ALAKAZAM, wonderful you came by…_ ’

But oh he remembered them, too. Blazing into down with their dog at their side. He thought he was hallucinating at first. He hadn’t shot that raider? Yet they were draped over a pile of sandbags, dead. That’s when he heard the panicked shouting. ‘Shoot the mutt!’ ‘Where’d the little bitch go?’

He couldn’t stop, he had to keep shooting. While one raider was frantically searching his surroundings, looking for whoever or whatever had gunned down two of his teammates- he popped them right in the back of the head.

And that’s when he saw her.

Blazing through concord like some beautiful, blue avenging angel.

‘Find ‘em! Find ‘em!’ One raider demanded; oh he got his wish. She leapt out from behind a tattered, broken down truck, smashing her 10mm pistol across his temple, dashing his heads contents against the pavement. He saw another raider, all armored up; ready to mow her down. He hadn’t finished cranking his musket; his one chance of getting them all out of this alive and he blew it.

But before the raider could pull the trigger, the ‘mutt’ made a special appearance. All brown fur and canine fury, teeth sinking into the raiders arm. The scantily clothed butcher barely had time to scream before his blue savior popped three 10mm rounds, right in her head.

‘Hey, up here, on the Balcony!’ He called down to her. She looked around in confusion for a moment, before tilting her head up to see him. The sun shone directly in her eyes as she squinted up at him, raising a hand to block the rays from baring directly down onto her face. ‘I’ve got a group of settlers inside! The raiders are almost through the door! Grab that laser musket and help us, please!’

He waited with bated breath. Why should she help them? She had already helped enough, done enough. She was probably just another wanderer, passing through, she wouldn’t want to get involved in the minutemen’s business, especially when that business involved getting shot at.

But he swore the moment she picked up that laser musket and darted inside, he felt something kick in his chest; and it wasn’t just relief.

‘ _I was humming a tune, drinking in sunshine, when out of an orange colored view…._ ’

He heard the scuffle through the door. He heard the snarls of her dog, and the screams of the raiders as she gunned them down. He remembers Marcy Long pacing a hole in the floor, muttering curses to herself. ‘It can’t just be one person!’ She insisted angrily. But oh, it was. 

‘No matter how many of them there are, they’re cutting through those raiders like butter.’ Sturges was still working on the terminal. Preston had come off the balcony now that most of the raiders outside were taken care of. He waited by the door, gripped with apprehension. The sound of a raiders foot thudding rhythmically on the door seemed like a countdown to their doom. 

But then suddenly, it was gone. The group gathered around the door, Preston having readied his laser musket. He nodded for Sturges to slowly open the door-

‘Hello? Are you still in there? Raider’s are dead.’ That voice might as well have been a heralding choir of angels, because Preston couldn’t think of anything he wanted to hear more. Him and Sturges both let out a sigh of relief as the latter opened the door.

‘ _CRASH. BAM. ALAKAZAM. I got a look at you._ ’

He felt his breath catch in his throat. She looked like a figure out of some heroic painting. Her hair tousled by the wind and fighting, her skin shining with sweat, her cheeks rosy from exertion; and her eyes, oh, her eyes. Preston stared directly into them and felt his insides melting. He’d never seen anything so pretty yet so intimidating. But it wasn’t the time for waxing poetry, it was time for action.

‘I don’t know who you are, but I can’t argue with your timing…’

‘ _One look and I yelled timber, watch out for flying glass…_ ’

Some raiders, a deathclaw, and a short hike later, their hero had helped them get to Sanctuary. Preston had wanted to say something to her, but what would he have said? ‘You fight good’ or ‘I really liked the way you caved that raiders head in with a coffee pot’? He was lost then, and damn he was lost now.

‘ _’Cause the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out, I went into a spin and I started to shout…._ ’

So here they were now, him and his former savior, trekking through the Commonwealth, saving settlements and righting wrongs along the way. They often made stops back at Sanctuary, and yeah they were nice; but something about the two of them, alone on the open road, made him itch to get back out there.

‘ _I’ve been hit, this is it, this is it, I’ve been hit._ ’

He trailed behind her whenever they traveled together, offering the reasoning that he was a sniper, and worked better from a distance. She accepted it well enough, but sometimes he wondered if she ever noticed him staring at her, was ‘longingly’ the right word? Could be, but he didn’t think it mattered either way. No matter what word he used, girls like her just didn’t notice guys like him…

But damn if that changed a single thing about how he felt.

They had been situated around a campfire at a Co-Op a little ways away from sanctuary. It was dark, the sun having set a long time ago. He was checking his laser musket, making sure it was locked and loaded for tomorrow. He would probably be hitting the hay soon, they’d have a lot of walking ahead of them tomorrow. His gaze darted over to her a couple times, the flickers of light from the campfire dancing across her skin. It was dark, so he couldn’t really be sure, but he could swear she was looking at him.

“Y’know,” She piped up. “You look like some kind of heroic portrait right now. Strong jawline, furrowed brow, determined expression. Hat certainly helps.”

He hoped she couldn’t see the blush that lit up across his cheeks.

“Think I’m missing the powdered wig, and the tight pants.” He responded with a smirk. His comment got a laugh out of her; oh, her laugh. He could get used to hearing that.

“I’m serious, Preston.” She continued. “You look like the very picture of heroism right now. You even have the scar-” A soft hand rose to his face, and her fingertips flickered across the gash on his cheek. Without even thinking, he jolted away as if hit by a bolt of electricity. 

“Oh, shit-” She recoiled, shame crossing her face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

He immediately jolted back to his original position, eyes widening. “No, no! It’s fine. It was just…surprising. I’m not used to..to being touched. That’s all.” Well, touched without the intent of physical harm, at least. His gaze settled on her, she was looking at her feet, her soft hands bunched under her arms in shame. Oh, he wanted those fingers tracing his cheek again; he also didn’t want her to feel guilty. But what could he say without making it weird.

He cleared his throat.

“You-..You can touch it, if you want. Not like it hurts, you know? It just surprised me, is all.” She met his gaze, and his eyes lingered on her a bit too long. Shit. He looked back down at his musket, fingering the crank awkwardly. He made it weird. It was weird, now. _Dammit_.

But he hadn’t, because soon enough those soft fingers were caressing the scar on his face once again; and damn it took a lot to not lean into the touch.

‘ _I was walking along minding my business, when love came and hit me in the eye. FLASH. BAM. ALAKAZAM. Out of an orange colored sky…_ ’

They were trekking through the wilderness of the commonwealth, with him humming under his breath. She seemed to like it whenever he started to hum a tune on their little walks, he could swear he saw a smile on her face. Then again, she always walked in front of him. He observed their surroundings, trees, fallen logs, wild plants and…

“General, wait a minute.” He said quickly, prompting her to turn around from her position on a nearby ledge.

“What’s up?” She called, but he didn’t give her an answer. He trotted a little ways away, kneeling in the dirt. His back obscured most of what he was doing, but she waited without a complaint, simply tilting her head to the side. After a moment or two he pulled himself to his feet, trotting back over to where she was.

“Hubflowers,” He said, holding out a blue and purple blossom. “They’re common, but damn if they aren’t beautiful.”

She looked down at them with her eyebrows raised, her eyes glimmering. Before her could say anything he took it, tucking it behind her ear. She smiled, though it quickly tried to twist itself into a smirk.

“Never took you for a flower child, Preston.” The rosy tint on her cheeks made the dirt on his pants more than worth it.

“What can I say,” He said, tipping his hat slightly. “I have my hidden talents.”

‘ _One look and I yelled timber, watch out for flying glass._ ’

“General!” He shouted, running to her side after a run in with gunners. They had been dispatched, their bodies littering the dirt road, but she had sucked up a couple bullets. He dropped his musket on the ground beside her, falling to his knees. One had embedded itself in her shoulder, the other in her ribs.

“Got ‘em all, didn’t I?” She grimaced, obviously in pain.

“Yes, yes you did, general. But don’t ever do that again. The minutemen need you.” I need you. The words almost left his lips before he could stop them. But he managed to hold them back. 

“Yeah, yeah. You know I’m never going to stop making bad decisions-”

“Unfortunately.” He muttered, digging a couple stimpaks out of his coat. This earned him a pained chuckle.

“But hey, at least I’ve got a cute nurse looking out for me.” The smirk she gave him turned him almost as red as the barrel of his musket, and he lowered his head so his hat covered the top half of his face.

“Stay still,”

“OW! At least warn me before you jam one of those into my side!”

‘ _’Cause the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out, I went into a spin and I started to shout I’ve been it, this is it, this is it, I’ve been hit!_ ’

They were at the Castle, overlooking the ocean on one of the forts walls. They had just finished retaking it from the mirelurks that had made it their home. The mammoth queens body lay strewn in the center of the plaza, and the only noise now was the sound of fiddle music being played from the radio tower. They stood, side by side, admiring the sunset. If he had his way he’d reach out and take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. But no, that would be stupid, girls like her didn’t end up with guys like him.

“Well, Garvey, I’d say this was a productive day.” She said flatly, looking blankly out over the ocean, a cigarette hanging from her bloody lips.

“Eh,” He shrugged. “I think we could’ve added some fireworks to our muskets. Made it a bit more patriotic.” He heard her snicker, and damn that made him standing up here, sore, cold, tired; that little laugh made it all worth it.

“As The General, I’ll take your suggestion into consideration.” She looked over at him, and their eyes met. The sunset painting her skin a soft, orange hue; the wind gently tousling her hair back behind her shoulders, like when they first met. He looked at her like she was a masterpiece, and there was something about her eyes that made him think maybe she wanted to say more than she did. “But for now, you should get some rest. The gash on that leg of yours looks pretty nasty.”

“Who knows, maybe it’ll give me another ‘heroic’ scar.” He smiled softly at her, and she smirked back.

“You seem to have a fondness for collecting those.” She snickered.

“And flowers. Don’t forget those.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Her smirk softened.

‘ _I was walking along minding my business, when love came and hit me in the eye.._ ’

“But really, you should get that checked out.” She broke the moment between them. And his smile fell slightly. He didn’t blame her. Girls like her just didn’t go for guys like him. He tipped his hat sightly, turning to leave.

“Oh, and Preston-” He stopped, starting to turn before he felt her bloodied lips on his cheeks. His heart smashed against his chest. He felt her smooth fingers tuck something into the lapel of his coat. “Thanks.” He looked at her with wide, shocked eyes as she turned, starting down the stairs to climb off the wall. He looked down to see what she had pushed into his coat. A hubflower, all blue and pristine like the one he had tucked into her hair. He looked down at it, his gloved thumb caressing it gently. He must’ve stayed like that for a while, because eventually he was startled by the sound of someone deliberately clearing their throat. He jumped, turning to see Ronnie Shaw, gun tucked under her arm, glaring at him.

“Son?” She addressed him bluntly.

“Y-yeah?” How much of that had she seen?

“Don’t fault me when I say this- but you’re an idiot.”

‘ _FLASH. BAM. ALAKAZAM. Out of an orange colored purple striped…_ ’

He climbed down the stairwell of Castle’s walls, quickly, clumsily, paying no attention to the injury on his leg. His eyes scoured the main plaza, but she wasn’t there. He hadn’t heard the door to the bunker open or close so-

There she ways, in the doorway overlooking the ocean, leaning on the stone wall; with the sunset encapsulating her like a fiery halo. He walked, or should he say limped, over to her; not even knowing what he’d say. She must have heard him, for she turned slightly to greet him. He only stopped when he was inches from her, looking her straight in the eye- he started to lose his nerve.

“Thought I told you to get that leg checked out, soldier.” She said, and that smirk, with her arms crossed proudly, made him forget about his lack of nerve.

He put one hand on her hip, the other on her cheek, pushing his lips against hers. He felt the brim of his hat come up in the front, and her arms coil around his shoulders. He could taste her blood in his mouth, but damn if he cared.

‘ _Pretty green polka dot sky-_ ’

“Ow!” Came her muffled cry; and he pulled back instantly.

“Sorry,” He muttered. “Did I hurt you?” He ran a thumb over her cheek, looking down at her with concern. She pressed two fingers to her bloodied lip as he started to back away. Now he was remembering his nerve, or his lack thereof. She apparently, noticed, grabbing the collar of his coat.

“Woah, there, cowboy, we’re not done here.” Her own lips crashed into his, staggering him back into the stone wall. She pressed her body tightly, feverishly against him. He coiled his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her against him, leaning down into the kiss. After a while they couldn’t even kiss anymore, they merely smiled against each others bloodied lips.

‘ _FLASH. BAM. Alakazam and goodbye-_ ’

And later when they were sitting, backs against the stony walls of the Castle, looking up at the orange colored sky, wounds aching, with her head leaning on his chest, and his arm around her; he knew.

Girls like hurricanes definitely went for guys like stone walls. As long as they kept up.

‘ _Wow, I thought love was much softer than that. What a most disturbing sound._ ’


End file.
